Chapter 14 #3
In the end, I decided to do what I did best: play dumb. "He'll be here soon," I said brightly, beaming. "He had a meeting. I got tired of waiting."
Something in Crozani's expression slipped, like she was disappointed I hadn't risen to the bait – that had been bait, I was pretty sure – but she straightened anyway.
"Does your Araxis not keep you entertained, then?
He has been away from Xitera for a very long time.
He couldn't be blamed if he doesn’t understand how to best tend to a virra. "
I stared at her, uneasiness crawling along my skin. Was she making a play for me? And was this an attempt at persuasion, or could I expect a possible kidnapping? She'd called me unguarded when she had first accosted me in Verdant Ward. Was that something I had to worry about?
Well, if she tried, she was due for quite the fucking wake-up call.
Crozani continued, unbothered by my lack of response.
Idly, she inspected her talons – hers weren't filed down; I suspected that might be the fashion in Xitera these days, judging from what I'd been observing in our meetings – and said, "He is quite young, your Araxis, and you are certainly a virra of unusual appetite and vigour.
I doubt he's able to... exert control in a measure that equals your spiritedness. "
I fought to keep a neutral expression; it wasn't easy, because I was being violently torn between laughter and fury.
I wouldn't have even taken her on as a client at the den; I didn't fuck people who made my skin crawl.
"He keeps me more than entertained," I said, still smiling although my neck stiffened. "I find him my equal in every way."
"And –"
"Oh, it's Sashen!" A warm, familiar voice echoed from the entrance to the museum, and then Zirric was waving as he threaded his way down the stairs toward us, Lauvis of Creche Athal trailing a few paces behind. Next to me, Crozani straightened; her hand flexed near the hilt of her sword.
"I will ask that you excuse me," I murmured, dipping my head and then doing my level best not to bolt up the first flight of stairs toward the museum.
Zirric – brown eyes warm, his fur brushed to a gorgeous glossy sheen that was particularly striking under the dramatic museum lights – met me on the plateau, beaming with his hands outstretched, which I grasped hard in my own.
"Thank you," I hissed as he hauled me in for a hard hug, his hands drifting all across my back in a very familiar brin way, which might have been startling except that I'd spent a lot of time being casually fondled by brin over the years – and I'd take that over the predatory smile of Crozani any day.
"Who was that?" asked Lauvis, his voice flat as he looked down to the space I'd vacated.
"Crozani of Creche Naival." I pulled free from Zirric's embrace, although he snaked his arm around mine so that he was snuggled up against my side, all warm fur and the distant smell of water. "That's not the first time she's been – a lot."
"Hm." Lauvis's features were sharp and bird-like, his crest gray dipped in charcoal.
He held his narrow shoulders in a perfect, upright line, chin tilted upwards.
"Third tier, I think. She hopes to head a branch.
Clumsy." He cut me a quick look – we hadn't yet been introduced, not formally, although he'd played host to me on his ship – and then let his stare skim past me and back up toward the museum. "Shall we go inside?"
"Oh, let's," purred Zirric, squeezing my arm.
It was probably better to be wherever Lauvis and Zirric were than out in this strange crowd, so I agreed.
We hadn't even reached the stop of the stairs when my wristband shivered against my skin with a reply from Araxis. I’m on my way, he wrote.
I was just about to click the interface off, when a second message followed.
I apologize for keeping you waiting. I’m very much looking forward to being by your side.
I thought about squiggling a heart to send back to him, but I could see, out of the corner of my eye, that Zirric was trying to not so subtly peer over my shoulder and read the messages, so I just closed the thread instead.
The museum was brightly lit, a series of rooms that coiled in a spiral around a central display of abayan art and cultural artifacts from several thousand years ago.
Zirric chattered happily at me – about some of the other exhibit openings he'd attended in Xitera, as well as which ones I might visit once I was there, and also did I want to go on some day trips when Araxis and Lauvis were stuck in meetings all day? We could take a hopper and get to three different planets and make it back in time for the day's end – while we went from room to room. I was only half paying attention, just smiling like I needed to and continuing to track how heads were pivoting in my direction – or maybe they were turning in Zirric’s. He was still a bit of a scandal as a skoshas spouse who’d been allowed to attend meetings at Lauvis’s side.
I kept an eye out for familiar faces in a way that was comfortable and instinctive; I could give a full accounting of who'd shown up later to Araxis and Inmadra, like I might have at the den.
I was just wondering why Zalla of Creche Idrelli was here without Sietho, when the tone of Zirric's chatter shifted and my attention was hooked back to the present moment.
"– not that I'm judging," he continued blithely, while Lauvis occupied himself with his wristband off to the side, still not bothering to look at me fully, "but I will admit I was a little concerned when I heard. I hope you know you can talk to me any time, Sashen."
I paused as we rounded a plinth with what looked to be some sort of golden disc on display, gleaming beneath the overhead lights with a line of text spiralling around it as it rotated slowly in place.
The room around this artifact was dimmer so that the abayan script flowing across the walls and ceiling, somehow being projected from the disc, were visible.
"I'm sorry," I said, tugging Zirric to one side while Lauvis leaned, unconcerned, against a doorway. "Could you say that bit again?"
Zirric's tail flicked somewhere near my ankle, his eyes shimmering with sympathy.
His palm tightened on my arm, a reassuring squeeze.
"Of course, you're probably surprised I've heard.
You should know, abaya may be very private, but they're also wicked gossips.
I'm not sure that reconciles, but I suppose that's what repression does: it makes hypocrites of us all.
Not that I'm repressed! I make it my mission to be a flower in a garden of thorns.
That's what my Lauvis likes to say, anyway. "
Despite his convivial delivery, cold trickled down my spine.
What exactly had he heard? Because anything that was printed by media corps didn't count as gossip, so it couldn’t be anything I knew about, which meant there were other things making the rounds.
This was what I'd feared when I'd arrived and found myself wrapped by pointed abayan silence.
There was also something about the way Zirric was looking at me – with what felt a lot like pity – that set my teeth on edge.
"You'll have to refresh my memory," I said, keeping my tone light.
"There are a lot of things about me to gossip about. "
Zirric nodded sagely, one long ear frond brushing my shoulder. "I'm not talking about the, you know, killing in self-defense, although I know all about that too. Which, really, I should congratulate you. I know who I want by my side when we do safety drills at the Great Hall!"
I waited, expectant, and then Zirric blew out a long breath. "I guess it's all connected, isn't it? You shouldn't need to defend yourself. That's why you have a sinnenthi. It's just – oh, I'm not being delicate about this at all, am I?"
What little patience I had was rapidly wearing thin. "I don't need you to be delicate. I just like to know things, and then I figure out what to do when I have all the facts."
"And you won't be mad that I've been listening to gossip?" He looked seriously put out by the idea, which was rich. I'd met him once before. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe it was hard to be the only brin on a ship of nearly five hundred abaya.
"Zirric," I said, angling my head so that my mouth was near his ear, "You know I'm a dancer. We're the most notorious gossips of them all. You will never make me mad by listening to gossip. In fact, since no one will share anything fun with me, you're doing me a favour."
The moment I said it, I regretted the choice of words.
Favours were important in Xitera, a currency of their own.
I opened my mouth to correct myself, but Zirric had already leaned in closer to respond.
"Well, in that case,” he said, “I've just heard that things are a little difficult with you and Araxis at the moment.
A few people have told me he's not tending to you properly.
And I can imagine that would be difficult, especially for someone like you, Sashen.
We've talked about it before: abaya are all tied up in knots about sex and –"
"Could you be a bit more specific about what's been said?
" I asked, trying not to sound irritated or overly sharp.
Because I needed to know so I could correct it.
I'd thought I'd been playing the part well now that I knew to cover up my bare neck, but if I'd somehow fucked up – If that had put Araxis's reputation at risk, more than I'd already done –